Tales from the grocery store

Now that I'm living on my own, I've been doing more grocery shopping than usual (whether I'm buying fresh produce or Totino's Pizza is none of your business) and encountering all the interesting trials of the modern day supermarket.

The other night I was at the store ready to check out when I realized that at prime grocery time on a Monday night, they only had about two real people cashiers, and the rest were self check-out or just closed. This was ridiculous! Everyone knows I love the self check-out as much as, if not more than the average kid who loves playing "store," but when my item count exceeds 30 or so, it's a bit much to handle and I get kinda anxious about the whole experience.

Am I moving fast enough? Am I "that" customer? I hope this doesn't break so I don't have to call over an attendant and hold up the line. There's the pressure of finding your barcode while the person behind you is analyzing your every move. Then of course when you've finished the transaction, your food items are all in a big clump at the end of the short conveyer belt; meanwhile the next customer has begun scanning his items which are beginning to race toward your own. It's all a big mess, basically, and I've begun to resent this activity that I used to enjoy so much.

I also encounter big issues of indecision when it comes to purchasing a simple item... say, mustard. I'm standing in the condiment aisle and staring back at me are dozens of mustard styles and brands, when all I want is some straight-up deli mustard. Naturally, the one that I usually buy is out, so I'm faced with a dilemma. I'll literally stand there for 5 minutes analyzing all the bottles and types and ingredients until I come to no conclusion at all and grab whatever bottle is the prettiest (good methodology, I know).

The other grocery store issue is the courtesy card. A couple weeks ago in the Washington Post Magazine I read a brilliant column on this card that often seems to cause more annoyance than good. It's a story everyone can relate to. Then again I did save $15.39 on my last order, so I guess I'll be sticking with it for a while. I really am a brilliant bonus card shopper -- who can resist Breakfast Lean Pockets at 2/$5?

Finally, there's the parking lot. I arrive at my car to load up all my groceries, and by the time I get there another car is already on deck to take my spot. Talk about feeling rushed! I calmly load everything into my car, then decide to abandon my grocery cart right there rather than wheel it across the parking lot to where it belongs. Of course, I get punished for this as it slowly wheels its way directly into the bumper of my car the moment I am buckled in the driver's seat. So I end up in a panic that I'm going to have a runaway grocery cart doing damage to a whole row of cars, when I should have just parked it correctly in the first place.

As you can see, I really know how to turn an everyday activity into an anxiety-inducing adventure. Who knew shopping for food could be so stressful?